


Intertwined

by Stone_Heart



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Acceptance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 19:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10623894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stone_Heart/pseuds/Stone_Heart
Summary: He burned himself with the tea.Nursing his burning finger in his mouth, he placed the cup at his Grandpa’s side.Shit, no. Those eyes, as soon as they looked up at him sent another wave down his spine. He was too nervous, too wobbly. His eyes were like molten silver, and they were awfully kind and gentle. You could see the light churning in them, until his eyes were almost smiling.“Yes, Yurochka?”Why was he so see-through?“Grandpa,” he said, stock-still and trembling. “I think I have something to tell you.”Grandpa leaned forward, hands wrapping around the cup. He swiveled the liquid around the edge, watching it swirl before looking back up at him with those eyes that felt so warm, warm enough to set him on fire. The burn could be felt in the lining of his lungs, straight to his toes.“You can tell me anything, you know that.” He said, smiling a little from the corner of his mouth.“Yeah, I know that.” Said Yuri, chuckling, the tea searing down his throat. The burn kept him alert. He needed to be alert. “I know I can tell you anything, it’s just…” He set his cup down, wringing his hands. “This is a little different.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Not much to say, except for, enjoy! I listened to Intertwined by dodie for this (even though it's not really related to the story at all), it's very nice and mellow, if slightly unsettling.

He’d swear to every god he knew that Grandpa could see him trembling.

That’s what it was, wasn’t it? Sweat prickling the back of his neck, hands aching in his lap. Those eyes were like drills in his side. He felt jittery, like a kid on too much sugar, energy thrumming under his skin.

What would it be?

Like the roll of a dice, there were so many different options. So many ways this could go. So _fucking_ many. Yuri wanted to shake it up until he got the right one.

Shake one.

Disappointment.

It was valid, from his point of view. No biological great-grandkids, he doubted Grandpa would like that. As if Yuri wanted kids anyway, and Grandpa probably wouldn’t know about surrogacy anyway. The wedding he’d dreamed of for him would be ruined. Futures would change. Everything would be different. Disappointment, to an extent, was okay. Normal enough for him not to be destroyed.

Grandpa sat back on his chair, groaning. He sipped at his tea, and closed his watery eyes. Yuri let out a snort, grabbing his own mug.

His phone. His phone on the coffee table. It was on, and it was right there. He didn’t need to tell him tonight. He could call Otabek tonight instead, rant on the phone for a while, flirt over the line while Grandpa knew nothing. He could do that. He’d love to do that.

But no. No, tonight was the night.

He wrote it in his planner, next to his dates at the rink, before the week long wait until Otabek visited. The date, marked in red and unlined three times.

 

  
**_скажи ему_**

 

 

Why was it so _fucking_ hard to stay still? His leg wouldn’t stop bouncing, nervous, shaky. Stupid, stupid leg.

Shake two.

Anger.

This would be the worst. Grandpa didn’t get angry a lot, but when he did, oh _boy_. No wonder they called it the Plisetsky temper. If Grandpa got angry, it would rip him in half. He’d cry, he’d yell back. He’d call Otabek in tears, and he’d leave. It wouldn’t be okay. Grandpa was family, the last one left that gave a shit anyway. If he was angry, Yuri wouldn’t survive. He was already drowning. That would just push him under.

He felt stupid before, preparing. Otabek had warned him to pack his bag, a bottle of water, a sandwich, a jacket for the cold, and some spare clothes.

“Really?” he said, laughing over the phone. “That’s not just a little over the top?”

Otabek grimaced. “Yura, I’ve heard some pretty shitty stories from Russia. You don’t know how he’ll react.”

“Yeah, but he loves me!” Yuri said, brows creasing as he scratched his cat’s head affectionately. “He wouldn’t kick me out. It’s below freezing outside.”

“Just be prepared.” Said Otabek, sighing deeply. “And call me right after. I can come to St. Petersburg early if you want me to.”

“Don’t be stupid, the tickets are way too much.” Said Yuri. His cat gave him a murderous glare at the contact, and leapt off the bed, scampering to another room. “I want to see you,” he corrected himself. “But you’re in the middle of your training.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” Of course, always the gentleman.

“Don’t worry about me Beka.”

“I always worry.” Said Otabek, frowning again. “Your Grandpa comes off as nice,” he paused. “But so did my uncle. You never know what it’s like if it’s their own kid.”

“I’ll be careful.” He said, biting the smile away. “Victor and Yuuri said I could stay at their place if I need to.”

“As long as you’re safe.” Said Otabek, relieved.

“Ugh, I hope I don’t have to stay with them,” said Yuri, leaning back on his pillows. “They’re so lovey-dovey, it’s so gross.”

“It’s not gross with me then, is it?” It’s like you could hear the raised eyebrow in his voice. That slight not-smirk on his lips. Shit, this man…

“With them, yes. With you though,” He said, grinning. “It’s sexy as hell.”

And by the heavens, of course Grandpa would walk in now. Grandpa cleared his throat, not quite knowing what to do as he stood in the doorway. He put his hat on the hook, putting on a pair of slippers before stepping inside. He didn’t ask, but it was awkward for a couple days. His face was still burned red from that incident.

Shake three.

Guilt. Yuri didn’t have parents. Maybe he’d think that he wasn’t a good enough role model. Maybe he’d blame himself. This was the second worst to anger. Because this one would make him sad. He hated feeling sad. He hated it with a passion.

Grandpa finished his tea. This was too quick, like an oncoming train. He couldn’t stop it. Why did he have to drink it so quickly? Yuri set the kettle on the stove, and tapped the warming kettle.

Shake four.

Shock. This was almost guaranteed, with anything like this. It wasn’t as worrisome. He’d be more surprised if Grandpa wasn’t.

Shake five.

Denial. _It’s just a phase_ , or the ever popular _you’ll grow out of it_. Fuck no, he wasn’t going to deal with that shit.

Shake six.

Acceptance.

Yuri poured another cup of tea, breathing in and out through his nose. Relax, he told himself. Relax, relax, relax. Breath it all out.

He nearly burned himself with the tea.

Nursing his burning finger in his mouth, he placed the cup at his Grandpa’s side.

Shit, no. Those eyes, as soon as they looked up at him sent another wave down his spine. He was too nervous, too wobbly. His eyes were like molten silver, and they were awfully kind and gentle. You could see the light churning in them, until his eyes were almost smiling.

“Yes, Yurochka?”

Why was he so see-through?

“Grandpa,” he said, stock-still and trembling. “I think I have something to tell you.”

Grandpa leaned forward, hands wrapping around the cup. He swivelled the liquid around the edge, watching it swirl before looking back up at him with those eyes that felt so warm, warm enough to set him on fire. The burn could be felt in the lining of his lungs, straight to his toes.

“You can tell me anything, you know that.” He said, smiling a little from the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, I know that.” Said Yuri, chuckling, the tea searing down his throat. The burn kept him alert. He needed to be alert. “I know I can tell you anything, it’s just…” He set his cup down, wringing his hands. “This is a little different.”

Grandpa’s eyes churned, hardening for a second. “Different? You didn’t get into trouble, did you Yurochka?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” He said, and his fingers tightened in his lap. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Okay…” said Grandpa, a brow furrowing. “Okay, then what is it?”

Time wouldn’t wait for him to compose himself. He gathered it up, the best he could. A giggle left his throat, and he choked it down. His palms left wet marks on his sleeves. Yuri was red, and shaking. Why was this so miserable?

“Yuri-“ Fuck this. Fuck this situation so much. Goddamn it!

“No, it’s fine!” He said, wiping his nose, and gave his grandfather a watery smile. “It’s just really hard to tell you after all this time.”

“Tell me what? Yura,” he came forward, pulling him into his arms. He was warm, and Yuri clung to it. “Yuri, please tell me. You’re turning green.” He buried himself in that smell of cigars and soft leather. Yuri turned into it, as if it would stop the pale tremble of his arms and legs.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” he breathed out, with a hiss of teeth. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Why would I go, Yura?” Said Grandpa, pulling him in tight. “I’ve still got a couple more good years in me.”

“It’s not that!” He cried, pulling away. “I’m…” He blinked back tears. “I’m scared of what might happen if I tell you.”

Grandpa was silent. He rubbed at his eyebrow, and sighed. He went still, frowning.

“Are you hurt?”

“Nothing like that,” he cried. “Nothing like that. I’m happy, Grandpa, really! It’s just hard to tell you about it.”

“You are making me worry,” Said Grandpa.

“Please don’t worry,” Said Yuri, heart twisting in his chest. “I’m not in trouble, I’m safe, it’s fine. I’m just,” he laughed a little, clenching his fingers. “I need to tell you this. You deserve to know.”

His phone was right there, on the table, and he held the warm screen against his fingers. It was fine. No matter what happened, he would be okay.

“I’m dating Otabek.”

Grandpa sunk down into his chair. Yuri’s heart thrummed in his neck, head swimming in a wave of sickness. Shit, grandpa…

“How long?” Said Grandpa, looking up. Yuri blinked.

“Three years.” He mumbled. “Three years from last week.”

Grandpa almost dropped his tea. “Three years!” He exclaimed, which sent another coil of gross repulsion into his stomach. “Three years, and I didn’t notice a thing!”

“Of course you didn’t!” He replied, a shaky smile on his lips. “How was I supposed to tell you?”

“Why?” Asked Grandpa, smiling warmly, although slightly confused. “You understand that I don’t mind such things.”

“I know,” he said, gathering his face in his hands. “I know, I know, but that was her, and she ended up with a man anyway, so...”

“It’s no different.” Said Grandpa. “It doesn’t matter to me if you’re dating a man. It doesn’t change a thing.”

He sighed, collapsing into the couch, tension seeping from his shoulders to the floor. Like the strings had been cut, he flopped down, grinning.

_How could he have been worried about this?_

He turned, felt his heart twist. Grandpa was pale.

“Grandpa-“

“Three years,” mumbled Grandpa. “You couldn’t tell me for three years?”

“I didn’t know how you’d react.” His hands twisted in his lap.

Grandpa frowned. A sick, awful sense of guilt began to filter in, coming up through his lungs, shiny and wet on his skin. Of course this would happen. Grandpa didn’t mind, of course he didn’t mind, he never minded stuff like this. He was fine with the gay thing. But three years…

Grandpa was the only one left. The only _fucking_ one.

“Three bloody years,” muttered Yuri, ears burning. “I’m sorry Grandpa, I’m so sorry-“

“Don’t be sorry,” He said, easing himself up from his chair. “Don’t be sorry about that, I should have made it clearer that I didn’t mind.”

Grandpa pulled him into a hug, and Yuri just melted. Grandpa was like a heater, the warmth gathered in the corners of his eyes and the tips of his fingers. The sharp bones in his chest almost disappeared, if all for a moment. Familiarity, and clarity.

“I knew you didn’t mind,” he sighed. “I always knew, but I was stupid.”

“We’re family, Yurochka.”

“I know, I know. I know, and I’m being ridiculous, and I should have known better, blah blah blah.” He said, rolling his eyes. “Wait, are you… crying?”

Grandpa rubbed at his eyes. “No, no, I’m… concerned.”

“Concerned…?”

“I want you to trust me, Yura,” he said, closing his eyes. “You’re everything to me, I couldn’t bare it if you felt you couldn’t tell me something like this.”

Yuri sighed, sinking. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

He felt the tears spill over his cheeks, soaking into Grandpa’s jacket. The weight sunk off his shoulders, pouring into his eyes and lungs like dust, flowing from his veins, out in every breath. He breathed, really breathed, and he was surprised at how easy it was without that uneasiness. He thought, maybe, it was the words. _It’s not your fault_. That’s what he needed to hear. The words he had needed.

For a little while, he could allow himself to feel safe.

When he was younger, he’d numb himself to the pain with his skating, letting the burn course up his legs and back out his arms like an electrical current, but that took something out of him. He’d come home to Grandpa, with his safe, molten silver eyes, and he’d be able to genuinely smile. Grandpa could take it all away. An anchor to the rest of the world, but all at once an escape. No one else cared about him, but with Grandpa, he could forget for a little while.

But these last few years, a few more than three, his thoughts, his feelings, Yuri had held himself at a distance, balancing that safety from the tips of his fingers. Laughing at his fear, and cursing his numbness around the subject. Drinking in his self-pity, drowning in Otabek’s arms. He couldn’t have told Grandpa how wonderful that man was, how after three years he couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.

That night he came home for his 18th birthday, chilled from the cold, his cheeks stained from kisses placed there several hours ago. Under the falling snow, Otabek linked their hands together, and finally did it. _Why had they ever waited?_ Yuri pulled him in, melting into the cracks in the floorboards.

He felt lost when he stepped into his home.

It had all changed. A shift in perspective. A new itch in his skin. A secret to hide. With Grandpa’s eyes on him, he drifted across to his room, his skin prickling.

The new itch worked its way into everything. As they stood in their small kitchen, making dinner with their small wood burner chugging along side, there was a distance. Most days, he could shove it away, hide it in some lonely corner of his brain to stew. But others, it wouldn’t give him a moment of peace.

He imagined the conversation in his head a million times.

He held his head, covering his ears, listening to the churn of the blood in his palms. It was late, but he was left trembling at the thought of telling Grandpa.

_“Grandpa, I kissed him! I finally did it!”_

_“Last night he said he loved me – I didn’t say it back. Does that make me a bad boyfriend?”_

_“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I think me hates me now. I can’t believe we fought over something so stupid.”_

_“No, no, he’s wonderful. He’s probably the best thing that ever happened to me.”_

_“I hope I can bring him over here, Grandpa. He likes old shit too, you’ll love him. Plays the piano too, what a sap!”_

_“Ugh, we had this whole talk about kids last night. I’m only nineteen, is he serious? I mean, I don’t mind, but still. Isn’t it a bit soon? It’s only been two years… two years!”_

_“Can you believe it, Grandpa? Jesus, he’s perfect.”_

_“Three years.”_

_“Wow, it feels weird. Getting older like this. Growing older together. Damn it, he’s twenty-two, and it’s been three years. I… I think he might be the one. I know I’m only twenty, and its stupid, but he’s just…”_

_“The one? Fuck, sure, why not? Besides, I don’t think I’ll ever find someone else like him. I couldn’t stand by anyone other than him.”_

He shut his eyes, tight enough to see flashes of green across his vision. He coughed his tears out, angry tears that seared down his face, and left him feeling sticky and numb at two in the morning. Yuri was quiet, working the tears into his pillow, and when the sun rose again, he opened his bleary eyes, and made breakfast for the both of them with a grin on his face.

It was all a lie.

Living a lie. Breathing out the lies through the gaps in his teeth, out like cigarette smoke. Each puff, an invitation for more suffering.

“I want you to feel safe to tell me these things, Yura.”

“I do, it was just… after all that time, the pressure was overwhelming. I didn’t want to disappoint you-“

“You can’t disappoint me.” Insisted Grandpa. “Not with that.”

“And I was still unsure about Otabek for a while. I didn’t want to say anything that I wasn’t sure about.” He huffed. “Thank you, Grandpa.”

“I love you, Yura. Nothing can change that.”

He squeezed his eyes, watching the colors explode. “I love you too.”

Then, Grandpa suddenly turned cold, He froze on the spot, eyes wide. “I let that boy stay overnight in this house.”

“Grandpa!”

“He slept in your room,” Grandpa frowned, crossing his arms. “If he did anything I swear-“

“We’re not going there,” cried Yuri, cringing. “Nope, no, I’m not hearing it!”

“You haven’t done anything?” Said Grandpa, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing? Not in three years?”

“Jesus, no! I’m not going to answer that!”

“So you have!”

“No!” He cried. “I’m not having this discussion with you!”

“Yura, you need to be carefu-“

“Ahhh,” he said, shoving his hands over his ears. It was childish, yes, but necessary. “Don’t even start!” Grandpa laughed, the tears from his cheeks finally dry. “Besides, Victor and Yuuri told me more than enough information.”

“Oh, the married ones?”

“Yes, the married ones, Grandpa.” Said Yuri, snorting.

“So, when are you going to bring him over?”

“You’ve already met him, Grandpa.”

“Never as your boyfriend.” Said Grandpa, mock cracking his knuckles. “I’m going to need to have a chat with him.”

“Don’t scare him too much,” Yuri cackled. “Besides, he’s really nice. Otabek is great, honestly, he’s the best.” He bit his lips to stop the smile, but the grin was irresistible.

“Is he?” They collected the cups, dumping them into the basin.

“Yeah, he’s so cool!” Said Yuri, smiling gently. “He’s got these ripped up jeans, and a motor bike-“

“Oh, yes I remember the motorbike.”

“-with the flames on it, and literally”

“-on anyone else it would be ‘cheesy’?”

“Yeah!” Cried Yuri, nodding, practically glowing. “But on him it’s cool!” He placed the cup down. “I don’t talk about him that much, do I?”

Grandpa chuckled, eyes creasing into a smile. “Of course not.”

“Be serious.” Said Yuri. He dried his glass, placing it carefully back down on the cloth. “Did you have any suspicion? At all?”

“Perhaps,” said Grandpa.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“I couldn’t have asked something like that. You would have been closed off.”

“Hell no.” Said Yuri. “I would have told you if you’d just ask me!”

“So I should have just asked if you were gay?” Said Grandpa, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, it certainly would have been easier if you did!” Yuri exclaimed. But Grandpa shook his head.

“It wasn’t my job to pry, Yuri. I’m not going to force you to tell me anything.”

“Sure,” said Yuri, rolling his eyes. But he was grateful. When they were done, they sat by the fire. Yuri warmed his hands.

“Well, I’m glad it’s settled.” He twined his fingers together, the cool screen of his phone between his palms. “I think it’s going to be alright.”

Grandpa sits beside him, stirring a tablespoon of jam into his tea.

“It always is.” He said, smiling. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Sorry if you're here from my other fic, In Spite of this World. I've been dealing with some family stuff at the moment, and this was written before anything went down. I'll be writing this week, but considering how things are going for me at the moment, I might not get it done for a couple more days. But don't worry! It is not on hiatus, I just haven't had the time!
> 
> Anyways, this isn't based on anything (at least, for now). I'm not exactly too young anymore, and my parents still don't know about me. I guess, I just like living through my characters. And Yuri is a lot like me, so I love writing from his POV!
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3 <3!


End file.
